To Xisti
by Nentone
Summary: Bloom's sudden disappearance under mysterious circumstances sparks a dangerous domino effect: series of failed searches, a violent ambush— and not to mention a slowly corrupting Dragon Flame. Desperate, Tecna tries the very limits to see things through, not alone. A Next-Gen. fanfic. AU.
1. A Minor Aftermath

_**To Xisti**__— _this fanfic title is a word play of 'To Exist'. Of course, Xisti being the given name of a character of this story (which I will not be disclosing any time soon) sounds almost the same. Is this the same to you?

**Disclaimer: Winx Club and all related concepts, characters and events are property of Iginio Straffi and Rainbow S.r.l ©. Original characters (OCs) and story elements are property of Nentone.**

**Warning: **Beware; this is my first shy attempt at a Next Gen. fanfic. It took some time— and a lick of courage. But I can't say how you readers might view this.

On the other hand, I give a shout out to those who have attempted writing Next Gen. fanfics— no one says it's ever easy.

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><p>Chapter I<p>

Along the edge Teran sat perched like a brooding gargoyle, slum kids paintballing through the courtyard three floors below.

"_Teran, you know what you saw there. But I assure it's all–"_

"— _what? Fine?"_

He began rolling the gumball he had in his hand.

"_Barely six months ago, my mother goes missing. None of us __**kids **__knew a thing about that or your wild goose chase after her. Not until week ago—"_

"_Teran—"_

"_And now … __**this. **__And you still have the fucking calm to say it's all fine?"_

"_You still don't understand—"_

"_Then your logic holds no bounds here, Drag-dammit!"_

_**Squelch!**_

Taking one look at his clenched fist, Teran cursed then wiped the sticky mess through the crusted snow. Barely an hour ago he'd lost it at his aunt, all that suppressed anger and frustration, whilst his shocked friends could only bear witness. It hadn't been that long since he let his emotions get the worst of him— and neither was he proud of now, now he regretted such rash outburst tonight.

Heck, what would his mom even say? Damn, the thought of her disappointed look killed him more times inside than a stab.

So first thing, he realized looking to the clear full moon, after getting back to the castle: he needed to apologize. To his aunt. To his friends.

Till then all he needed was a deep breath— and some time to cool down could work as well.

Soon he had a cigarette pinched between his lips, and was fishing through his pockets for a lighter. He swore when he couldn't find it. Or he'd probably left it back at Kister's dorm room. Dammit again. So having no choice he was about to spit the stick out when a hand, from over his shoulder, pinched its end.

It smouldered to life.

And when Teran's eyes traced the arm of that hand from behind, he nearly leapt the roof. "H-how did you …?"

She merely nudged her head to the side, where his wind-surfer laid against a chimney, deactivated. Teran grimaced. Of course, she'd tracked him down.

With her usual disapproving frown, she began, "While normally I do not approve of your occasional smoking habit—"

Teran stood to his feet. "Aunt Tec, I'm really, really sor—" were his blurted words.

"Apology accepted." That sharp look softened for a moment. He noted the dark circles beneath her eyes. "And please, do refrain from interrupting me in the possible future. I find that tic to be quite … irritating."

A soft breeze ghosted past. "Huh?"

Now aunt Tec perched herself as did he earlier, and motioned for him to do the same. He did, albeit dumbfounded.

"I believe you need to be as relaxed as possible for the words I have to say." Pause. She clasped her gloved hands. "First of all, it should be I, apologizing. After all, I haven't been that truthful with you or your friends."

Accepting, Teran slowly nodded. He could start with that.

"However there is more to that actually," she continued. "Believe me as I say, for your sake; you do not have the slightest inkling of how big this is."

_Of course he knew! _"I …" Something flared hot within Teran, but cooled just as quick. "… see," was all he exhaled in a sharp puff.

"Yes. But not the big picture I'm afraid."

Silence.

"Tell me, Teran, how much do you know of the ancient Ancestral Witches?"

His face felt pale, eyes wide. "Don't tell me …"

"How do you mean?"

"B-but you just said …"

"Oh, if only you knew …" Aunt Tec barked a grim, bitter chuckle with that plaster-of-Paris face. "But of course it was just— how did you put it earlier? Ah yes— a 'wild goose chase'." She air-quoted as Teran felt his shoulders sag. "I thought so. However your indignant attitude this evening, though immature and unbecoming, was justified. Somewhat."

"Well that's because you didn't …" he trailed at her warning look. "Sorry."

After a fleeting moment she said, "Would you imagine if such kind of news had reached your friends during your terms at school. How would they react emotionally or psychologically?"

His eyes went downcast. "I … I never thought of it that way."

"So you did. Selfishly." Tecna nodded, emphatic. "Your frustration and rage is understandable as well— even I had felt the same, yet I felt so …" her voice cracked, face sour, and she took a ragged breath to compose herself, "helpless. But I know there is always another day. To live. To fight."

Another puff. "Heroics 101. Still, I don't get my role here." He stared at his hands and clenched them tight. "Can't standby helpless. Surely there has to be a way."

Teran noted aunt Tec studying him from his peripheral. He said nothing. Even as she took a deep breath and sighed, her breath a slow wispy steam to the cold air.

"When I was your age, Bloom," at which Teran flinched slightly, "used to be as impulsive as you are, more or less. She had the notoriety of rushing head-first into tense situations— all for safety of her friends. For her family. And yet, just that first year at Alfea, it cost her the Dragon Flame."

He shut his eyes. "The Trix."

"So you see why." Tecna laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder. "The Winx may have been powerful, but understand that we're not _all_-powerful. You are smart— I know that. You know that— and all you need is that: to think before you leap."

"What are trying to say?"

A blink, and a purse of the lips. "Your steadfast determination is also another admirable trait, Teran. Far it be from me to condemn it." Yet she looked away. "Though I'm afraid Bloom did make me promise."

Teran's eyes went wide, cigarette limp and slipping from his lips. "How …?"

"Bloom did not want you in this. Period." Aunt Tec seemed to measure her words. "Although weeks before that fateful night at Erakylon, she and I did have a private talk. She divulged about her restless mind as of late— about the strange visions now and then."

"Strange visions? Of what?"

"I cannot say."

"Or you won't."

"_Teran_ …"

His arms climbed in surrender.

"However," she continued, "Bloom had said if she was ready to confront the problem, she would tell. Eventually."

Teran shook his head. "But she didn't."

Five seconds passed, and aunt Tec rose to her feet.

"Whatever your decision is, be rest assured of my full support."

"And your promise to Bloom?"

"She had it coming since her latest disappearing act. And as for her promise?" Tecna shut her eyes with a small, rare smile. "I guess we can all be illogical once in every while."

Teran nearly gaped. WTF?

_Plat! Plat! _She flinched. Teran sprang to shield her. A red blotch dotted her forehead, another at her heart.

_What sort of joke was this?_

He scanned throughout the rooftops. Nothing. Then the courtyard below. It was void (when had that happened?). Probably the kids were having their game of _Elimination _through the alleys and backstreets.

"For paintballs, they sure carry their impact."

"Agreed." And with a finger-snap aunt Tec dispelled the stains to nothing. "But then again, I have had worse to catch me off guard."

"**N**ow** i**s**n'**ttha**t so**meth**ing you d**on**'t hea**r** every**day**,"** echoed from below, a duo of speakers in a voice— the first spoke soft, female, as the other hummed deep and otherworldly in its background.

Both eyes darted below, where a new figure emerged from the blackness of one of the alleys. She lowered her paintball marker and returned their gazes— if her helmet was anything to go by.

"Hey you!" A guy— in paintball armor as well— yelled from her opposite end. Soon others— five, six, seven of them— emerged as well. "You ain't part of our team."

"**T**he**n **d**on't bot**he**r me," **was all she uttered as shockwave rippled from her, knocking the unsuspecting group off their feet and sent them scrambling. Soon the courtyard was empty.

Teran and Tecna were poised at full alert.

"**N**o**w …" **Tossing the helmet away, the now bald, dark-skinned witch cocked her head at them with that eerie gaze and pointed at Teran. **"I **b**e**liev**e you h**aves**ome**thingtha**t **does**n'**tbe**lon**g** t**oyou**."**

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><p>What do you think? Your thoughts are appreciated.<p>

**Nentone, the Keyboard Assassin.**


	2. Here We Are

_**To Xisti**__— _this fanfic title is a word play of 'To Exist'. Of course, Xisti being the given name of a character of this story (which I will not be disclosing any time soon) sounds almost the same. Is this the same to you?

Shout out to** tears-in-rain.**

**Disclaimer: Winx Club and all related concepts, characters and events are property of Iginio Straffi and Rainbow S.r.l ©. Original characters (OCs) and story elements are property of Nentone.**

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><p><em>Picture a younger Flo doing the mad scientist gig. You know, tapping her fingers with dastardly deviousness to cackling to the high heavens with diabolical glee.<em>

_It's cute yet scary, but hey, you've just found her daughter Fawn._

— _Musa_

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><p>Chapter II<p>

**Castle Catacombs**

Timothy gazed at the capsule encasing a comatose Stella before him, the misted glass mirroring his regret. His guilt. His cowardice.

It plagued him.

Dragons, what would his friends, no— brothers think of him now?

The Solarian Queen looked pale, too pale, even if the holographics of her vitals showed otherwise. If barely. And so did the other two— his gaze drifting both ways— Musa. Flora.

It had not been long since their children were here. Ever since that spat between his dear Tec and Teran, where the latter had _conveniently_ dropped through his outburst about been 'led' to this chamber (Timothy remembered himself quirking a brow at that) and stormed out in his usual dramatic way. Soon Tecna had gone after him.

And then Kister had been the first to ask questions, and so Timothy was left with none other than to tell and show.

The truth indeed was a bitter thing.

Asides Kynthia, who kept a blanket of calm over her emotions, all did not go that well.

"I take it all did not go well."

Timothy twitched, nothing more. "You tell me."

By the side, the holographic consciousness of Dr. Electronio (1) flickered to view with a scrutinizing look. "Be that as it may," he began after a thoughtful moment, "I, for one, can say they took the situation rather calmly as well— despite the current state of their mothers here."

Timothy gave his head a slow, sad shake. "But the looks in their eyes said otherwise, doctor. I saw it. Especially Fawn." His gaze shifted to Flora's capsule. "Smart girl. She had almost everything figured out within her first week in Zenith, long before the others arrived. Poor girl had herself confined at the east wing since then— her own hard way of coping."

"Yet she is as understanding as her friends, is she not?"

"If only the same could be said of Teran." A sigh. "Some days, I swear that boy is another Bloom in almost every way. Which also begs a question." Timothy faced him. Someone supposedly 'led' Teran, and he knew who. "Why?"

Dr. Electronio waved the question off. "As you implied a day earlier, he is quite the curious albeit volatile individual. So therefore he would have found out for himself." He eyed Tim with a particular look. "_Sooner_ than later."

"I …" Timothy felt at loss for words, a sudden indignant spark flared from the pit of his stomach, but it was quickly doused with a heavy sigh of relief. At least that weight was off his shoulders. Even if he had witnessed the hell that followed afterwards. "Thank you … sir," was all he could utter.

A ghost of some lopsided smile touched at Dr. Electronio's serious mien. "Sometimes I wonder whatever did my dear daughter see in you."

A blink, and then Timothy could only shake his head, half-smiling. And sometimes he would never understand his father-in-law as well.

Just then the electronic door whizzed open— the doctor scattering to light particles— as an android guard stepped inside the chamber. Timothy's half-smile melted.

"Sir, we have a situation."

* * *

><p>Aunt Tec was on her hands and knees (2).<p>

The bald, possessed witch that was once Anukit was prowling onward towards her.

And so Teran did the only thing he could think of.

Even with paintball armour, possessed-Anukit (3) stiffened as his snowball struck the back of her head. "Y**ou** …" And when she turned with that bare-fanged rictus of rage, eyes blazing like twin hellish suns from behind that masquerade mask, Teran readied his phanto-gauntlet for hell.

"… **dare!" **Her arm swept. Snow. Wind.

And in a sweeping blast Teran was flung away. But a twist mid-air landed him in a crouch. He looked up. Only to roll away as lightning speared the spot he once was. If barely.

"**I**s **th**is th**e b**e**st **y**o**u **dar**e, ma**ggot?"**

Barely ducking the second, and blocking the staggering third, Teran rose. His breath came in hoarse, steamy puffs. "I dare damned well if you'd just quit ignoring me," he shot back.

At that, the possessed witch gave a wordless cry of outrage, and bared her hands at him, bolts of electricity charging between fingers. **"Th**e**n ig**nor**e **_t__**his, **_**you worm!"**

In a flash the entire yard lit up— it was at him. Too fast to think. To move.

He braced himself.

"_Aagh!"_

_Wait … but that wasn't my voice._

Teran peered over his shielding arm. _Aunt Tec!_

Too late. She was already in the grips of lightning, her arms X'd. Limbs jerking so hard he could hear her teeth ground on edge. Couldn't scream. Couldn't gasp.

All the while the witch only cackled with glee and kept at her handiwork, stronger and stronger. **"Whe**re **do y**o**u** l**ik**e **it!"**

Just then several arcs from Tecna jumped at Teran. He sidestepped. And then caught glimpse of the paintball marker, which had been once tossed aside, to his right. Another arc struck. He made a dive for it, took aim, and shot for possessed-Anukit's face.

That shattered the witch's focus. Painfully.

With a yowl, she recoiled and began clawing at her watering eyes. Whilst aunt Tec was released, down on hands and knees, Teran rushed at possessed-Anukit. A punting kick had her doubling over, and a gauntlet backhand to the face sent her reeling back.

He was about to knock her out.

"T-Teran don't—!" was aunt Tec's stuttered warning. He froze, split-second.

Too late.

"**Psyche!" **That crazed grin returned full force. Teran gasped, and tried prying himself from the shorter witch's crushing chokehold.

"_Techno Shot!(4)"_

In an instant possessed-Anukit gasped, her grip loosened and she collasped face-first sideways. Out cold.

Free, Teran coughed, staggering from the downed witch to rub his bruised throat. He looked ahead. Tecna was on her feet. Though looking worse, her hair a spiky pink mass of cowlicks on end, she continued dragging slow steady breaths, had her arm forward, palm bared.

And then an utter of _World Wide Web _and an unconscious possessed-Anukit was secured in a floating spherical cage.

Teran approached his aunt. "You think that'll hold her?"

"For the time being, yes," she replied.

Just then a new reving sound caught Teran's attention from behind. He turned.

"Thank the Dragons, we're not late."

It was at this moment unc. Tim made himself known, as he and— much to Teran's cocked brow— Kynthia stepped off his Wind Rider.

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><p>Tecna crossed her arms and fixed Timmy a frowning look in a way he opened his mouth, about to explain.<p>

"I …"

But it was at that moment possessed-Anukit chose coming to. She began banging at the cage. Again and again, it crackled, hummed, yet held firm against her fist. Only just.

Teran doubled back, as did Kynthia and Timmy. Whilst Tecna stood her ground, focused.

"She's going to break out." Teran said to her.

"**Eno**ug**h! I tir**e o**f t**hi**s." **The witch's magic flared black, bursting the cage to motes of neon-green light. And so she took to the air and began chanting:

"_**Bones of shadow, ashes of darkness, rise and extinguish this light of good—"**_

The air thickened, and Tecna slumped to her knees, as negative energy— a sudden, familiar, crushing press— beared its grip upon her shoulders and magic. She knew the more she struggled the more she got tired than she ever was minutes ago. Even Timmy, trying to help her up, was breathing. "This is bad. Very bad …"

"— _**Dark blood bubbling forth, concentrate thyself and overcome that which is pure—"**_

Kynthia suddenly stood tensed, upright, as if seized by possession. Her eyes— silver whenever a full moon. One of them began inking to a whole, foul, black.

"_**I summon." **_Possessed-Anukit's fingers clawed the air. _**"Rise!"**_

As bidden, beneath the levitating witch, the snowed earth gaped of three portals, and surfacing through each— head first, then torso, and then legs— were the trio of Musa, Stella and Flora staring back, blank-faced, zombie-like (5)

Their appearances looked as though washed out of a black-and-white film.

Even Tecna felt herself freeze with disbelief.

"**A g**if**t **fro**m **m**y s**is**t**e**r, Lysis (6). S**h**e s**end**s h**er …** gene**rous** r**ega**rd**s**, s**hal**l **w**e s**a**y. **But** f**o**r n**ow,**" **The bald witch stretched forth her arm, **"**al**l**o**w u**st**o e**ve**n th**es**e o**dd**s."**

However Kynthia struck first. Before anyone knew next she was a blur of vampire-like speed, tackling shadow-Stella to the whites (7).

Just then shadow-Musa and Flora began converging on Tecna and the rest.

"_Upstream State of __**Amplification (8)."**_ Tecna's magic hummed and surged, flaring against the oppressing pressure in a way she could find the feet to stand. Timmy parted from her and tossed a broadsword saber to Teran who caught hold and nodded his thanks.

Tecna exchanged a glance with her husband. He twirled his twin blasters in response. And together, they were off, dashing for the shadow lookalikes.

Shadow-Musa soon let loose a ground-shuddering sonic screech.

* * *

><p>As the sounds of chaos, spellfire and blaster shots started raging round, Teran gripped his crimson <em>Molobis<em> tightly. Felt the warmth of it in right hand. Never, never again would he storm away without it.

"**W**el**l n**o**w, i**sn'**t i**t** j**us**t **y**ou a**n**d **I**?" **Possessed-Anukit glided lower till she was mere inches above the ground. Teran swiped at her, once, twice, missing. She swayed backwards with a taunting laugh. **"Un**fortunate**. B**u**t **per**hap**s,** it is t**im**e I **a**cq**u**ire **wh**at I c**am**e f**o**r."**

"I have no idea what you're after or what you mean." Teran flicked his broadsword reverse-grip then bared forth his crimson phanto-gauntlet. "But all I know is you'd better get out of Anukit's head sooner." And so he took one step, then another, and then he broke into a sprint.

"**Foolish mortal."**

A runic circle appeared underfoot, and an invisible force grasped Teran in place, rooting his feet to the spot, arms snapping to his sides, _Molobis _slipping from his grasp. He gritted his teeth. Couldn't move. Couldn't budge.

"**Now …" **the bald witch's hand beckoned,** "reveal thyself."**

Against will, Teran's right arm lifted itself skywards to her utterance, levitating his body inches above ground.

_Hot!_

Teran was gritting his teeth. His arm suddenly felt hot, _blistering_ liquid hot, as if fire washed through its veins, stinging its bones.

Just then possessed-Anukit muttered something beneath her breath.

And Teran screamed.

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><p>Tecna was backing away from the <em>snap! <em>of a Venus flytrap that shadow-Flora wove when Teran's scream drew her attention. She looked. And then it happened:

A blinding explosion of light so intense the yard was overwhelmed. Every inch. Every layer.

Possessed-Anukit screamed. Tecna shielded her eyes.

As soon as it all cleared, what remained of the shadow beings were blown away, trails of black powder in a gust of wind. She looked round. Kynthia and Timmy were trying to gain their bearings. Whilst the possessed witch was again out cold, Teran barely. But he was coming to.

She, being the closest, reached and helped him up. "Teran?"

He blinked, winced and clutched his forehead. No doubt a headache. "Ugh …?" was all he could utter.

A relieved sigh. _He was okay._

"_Tecna!"_

At Timmy's fearful cry, she shoved a dazed Teran away and spun, instinctive, just as a gliding possessed-Anukit bared her fingers.

Tecna's eyes widened in nano-seconds. _Fast!_

One moment she tried bracing herself, the next Timmy was diving across her front, diving between her and the incoming lightning, a _zing _from one of his blasters had the assaulting witch stunned midair— but not before the arcs of black electricity reached as well, twisting, writhing, and then slapping his body onto the ground.

Hard.

A stunned possessed-Anukit soon plummeted too, knocked away, as Kynthia, in Winx, lowered her arms, once blazing with magic.

Whilst Tecna felt herself scream for Timmy. She didn't care when she reached for him. So shocked was she, her body grew cold, colder inside out. Numb. _First, her friends. And now … no, no, dear Dragons, no …_

She cradled his hand and felt it. Nothing. And then cocked an ear onto his chest, listening, hoping.

And then she felt it. A weak beat. A pulse. _Alive. _She sighed into his hair. _Still alive. Thank Dragons._

* * *

><p>Some distance away, where aunt Tec was cradling Timmy's limp hand and then had her ear into his chest, listening for a heartbeat, a sound, anything.<p>

Murderous rage washed through Teran.

At that moment whatever pain in his system didn't matter. He didn't know when he had picked _Molobis_, stood, and was prowling towards the sprawled witch.

Not until Kynthia stepped into his path, arms up.

His broadsword low, he flicked it sharply to the side. A warning. "Move."

"I won't." She stood as firm as her words. "Not until you remember the _real _Anukitas one of the victims here. Cool down, Teran, Unc. Tim will be alright."

Hands clenching, Teran shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and hissed a plume of air. His rage subsiding. Just only.

The pain flooding back was something otherwise.

Just then there was the sound of someone clapping in mock applause.

Both eyes darted for the rooftops. Towards the rundown apartment where Teran knew he and his aunt had talked not so long, now sat a woman in black, her legs dangling over the edge, yet that gold-eyed gaze was aimed at a sprawled, unconscious Anukit. Something sinister gleamed within.

The clapping stopped. **"Three times and she's out? Surpise, surprise. And here I thought I'd witness an encore."**

And she yawned. And in a blink she was gone.

_The hell?_

"Dark Bloom(9)!" was an enraged Tecna's yell. _Dark Bloom? _Teran kept an eye on his aunt approaching their way. She was darting glances here and there. "I know you have hand in this. Show yourself!"

"**Or what?" **Said person reappeared by Anukit's side a while away, then crouched. She hmm'd to herself, tapping at her lips. **"Tsk, tsk, ever the disappointment, aren't you Tharma? Now whatever are you and your sisters up to …?"**

Like a snarling animal, Tecna looked like she was about to charge, spout a spell or two. But Teran and Kynthia grabbed hold of her arms. Their aunt managed keeping her cool.

For the moment.

She ground her words, slowly, "Dark Bloom, you have fifteen seconds to—"

"—**yawn." **The dark twin faked a yawn and pretended examining her fingers. **"Can you even hear yourself? Seriously, Tec, do yourself and everyone else a favor and get some Zzz's, 'kay?"**

"You bit—!" As soon as said Tecna suddenly looked so drowsy she went limp in their grip, deep asleep. As Kynthia laid her down, Teran poised himself at full alert. He didn't know what to make of Dark Bloom, both in voice and appearance. How in hell could she look like his—?

"**Er … not exactly, sweetheart." **Gold cat-like eyes eyed him with mischief.

_Never mind. _"Of course not."

Kynthia spoke up. "And what are you going to do with Anukit?"

Dark Bloom cocked her head. **"Your friend will live." **Pause.** "For now. But dear Tharma and I are going to have a **_**loong **_**chat, aren't we?" **As she rose, Anukit's lips parted, a black mist seeping out. It twisted, coiled, until it became full-fledged ghostly figure with that hellish, blazing glare— Teran gulped— the ancestral witch Tharma. Dark Bloom warped a portal, a whirlpool of darkness, open behind her. **"And oh, Teran?" **He looked. **"Be good. We'll be seeing each other soon."**

In an instant both were gone.

Teran could only look on in a daze. "Kynthia?" he began. "I don't think unc. Tim's going to be alright."

Kynthia's Winx form lifted, fading to her quiet goth self— and her mismatch of long and short sneakers. She shrugged. "Maybe."

Silence. Soon sirens began sounding in the distance.

Teran shook his head and brushed stray reds of his hair aside. "You know what? Let's just call in Fawn and get all of ourselves outta here. I've had more than enough for one night."

"Which reminds me …"

"Hmm?"

"Happy birthday."

* * *

><p>Kister sucked a deep, steadying breath …<p>

Seeing his mother comatose before him, like Flora and Musa in their stasis capsules, still and silent, almost made him want to breakdown again. Again from the tumbling wave of emotions within. And again he secretly envied how his twin sister managed keeping hers all in.

… and slowly exhaled with a soft _whoosh._

But no, this time he held strong. He had to.

"Kister, focus. We have a situation."

"You know, that's just the same thing Tim said before snatching Kynthia away." Kister eyed Fawn suspiciously. "What's to you this time?"

Fawn kept her focus forward, dragging several holographic screens overlapping here and there. "What do you think I've been doing— as you put it— 'holed up' at the south-east tower for the past few days?"

He blinked, once, twice. Okay, that was a good question. However all he could think at the moment was how unnerving she was with this _serious _attitude. Sort of.

"Anyways, I took the liberty of _borrowing _a little of aunt Tec's digital notes—" She nonchalantly waved a black Skyhum to his face— Tecna's PDA.

"You … what?"

"— and found some … _several _interesting things about her research."

Now he curbed the urge of smacking his forehead. That would just leave an unsightly mark for later. So he took to groaning aloud. Didn't like this. Not one bit. "Why do I get the feeling we're about to get into big trouble?"

Ignoring the rhetorical question, Fawn pinched one of the paper-thin blue-tinted screens wide for him to see. A screen displaying the vitals of their mothers. "So what do you notice odd?" she asked.

Squinting, Kister cocked his head and studied each of the three for a moment. Musa's. Flora's. And then his mother's. "Nothing. Looks all normal to me."

"Physically and mentally, yes." She lifted a finger and turned to him. "Now what if I told you the essence of their magic were somehow … 'stolen' so swift, so sudden they went into immediate shock, and then coma."

"Impossible," was his answer.

"Oh but this …" Fawn swiped at the PDA. It sprang to life green-tinted holographics of its own.

"… has a different story."

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><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>

_(1) Dr. Electronio, in this story, is officially dead. But unofficially, as part of his last wishes, Tecna had his consciousness uploaded (which is deemed illegal in Zenith) into a private grid within the catacombs for the foreseeable future. Only Tecna and King Cyros are aware of this._

_(2) Tecna isn't weak, just barely holding herself together. She is just merely too exhausted to transform. She is exhausted physically, mentally and yes, magically. Try staying five days with little to no sleep researching and hoping your friends come awake from coma. Good luck with that._

_(3) Possessed-Anukit? All I can say is that the real Anukit is, er, a very odd friend of Fawn. She can be too nosy, too curious— you figure out the rest._

_(4) A Winx-level spell, you wonder. Well I try my best … depicting Tecna as quite an 'experienced' fairy, shall we say. Sirenix may be her trump card. But that doesn't mean she is without spells going all the way back to Winx. It's nothing new. However, even with all the power-ups and all, the basics do have their strengths sometimes._

_(5) Something within me prefers Lysis to Lyslis. Nothing more._

_(6) This story had started really, really late._

_(7) I imagine Kynthia as one of those fairies that are within that 'gray' range— the blur between light and dark magic. __**Darkness Empowerment**__ might have weakened Tecna a bit, but the same can't be said of Kynthia._

(8) '_**Upstream State Of Amplification'**__— truth be told, this spell is more of willpower than magic. Tecna and Bloom had created this as a counter against the Ancestral Witches' notorious use of __**Darkness Empowerment, **__which leaves __most__ fairies helpless._

_Balderdash aside, I, myself, have no idea how I came up with this._

_(9) Let's just say I'd hate it if she's left out of this._

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><p><strong>P.S: <strong>Whoever says creating Next Gen. OCs are easy, please step in line.

What say you about this chapter?

**Nentone, the Keyboard Assassin**


	3. No Chains

_**To Xisti**__— _this fanfic title is a word play of 'To Exist'. Of course, Xisti being the given name of a character of this —story (which I will not be disclosing any time soon) sounds almost the same. Is this the same to you?

Shout out to **HeatherMoonPixie, **whom I thank for being the first favoriting and following this story. And to **Skylover 101, Zono, I6RedPoppet **and **Idalia Cytherea Miko **who also took their time reading and reviewing, as well as those who viewed, I am most grateful. Apologies, as this chapter has been long overdue.

**Note: **This story lacking background at first was deliberate, somewhat. I feared I'd go overboard and overwhelmed with whole Next Gen. thing— OCs, Zenith and whatnot.

**Disclaimer: Winx Club and all related concepts, characters and events are property of Iginio Straffi and Rainbow S.r.l ©. Original characters (OCs) and story elements are property of Nentone.**

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><p>"<em>Last night I had some sort of vision. Guys, I think ... I think I know where Bloom is."<em>

— _Stella_

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><p>Chapter III<p>

Nobody dared pausing nor glance at the heated stare off.

"Got a problem witcha eyeball, goldilocks?"

Sky hadn't realized he'd been glaring hot, seething murder at her— _her_, the chief blood-overseer who loomed this side of the quarry wall where they were toiling their backs upon. Not until he felt a firm hand squeezing his shoulder, his fellow chain mate Bones shaking his head no.

The message was clear in those dark eyes. Sky's jaw set. Taking account of his still-healing wounds, he knew aggravating them in any way would only make his situation worse. So struggling with great agonizing effort, he shut his eyes, bowed his head, and replied with a choke in his voice:

"No."

Krisi— or so Sky's personal tormentor called herself, made a show of leaning sideways and cupping her ear, the movement so fast it sent a few of Sky's quarry mates flinching.

"No wha? Didn't catch that."

"No …" Fists clenched even tighter as teeth, "… sir."

"Keh, thought so." Lowering her darling sawn-off shotgun _Reeves_, Krisi snorted deep and spat at Sky's unflinching face, the fat glob of mucus sliding from eye to cheek. "There's a good dog, that one's on the house!" And with that the blood-overseer went her way howling with laughter.

As soon as labour continued within the two-by-two chain cell, _ticks_ of pickaxes here and _slams_ of sledgehammers there along with the rest of Dandung quarry, so did hushed murmurs within earshot:

"That one? Never learns, does he?"

"... wasting breath in things that never didn't concern him. Just like poor Theodore, oh gods rest his—"

"Tis a miracle mistess Krisi hadn't kill him till now ..."

"Doesn't matter. Other play toys have expiry one day," uttered a fourth. "Mark my words, his will be worst."

Grim nods seconded that.

Though Sky glimpsed and heard it all, he paid them no mind either. After all, this was not the first of times since his actions were uttered in whispers, few praising, most abusing, whilst the rest nothing. Just one of those grey days of fifty or so faces, he thought, lifting his eyes skywards. In this hell.

Somewhere so, the tune of '_Ain't No Grave_' hummed from a brave lip, then worded by a few more, and was soon echoed round parts of Dandung quarry in circles.

Stiff as a robot, Sky wiped his face clean then glanced his side where a ten-year-old squat turtled up, whimpering, shoulders shuddering in muffled sobs. Webs of bloodshot veins bulged and thumped beneath that blooming red skin, as if his blood had just been steamed inside out— which wasn't that far from the truth.

The truth of those ... _monsters_.

Sky hunkered down the boy's level and tried smoothing the edge off his voice.

"Hey there," the child sniffed and looked up with wet wide eyes, "will you be al ..." but flinched. Sky sharply withdrew his hand. But the boy already scrambled to his feet, whirled and in a flurry of mud-caked sack clothes, fled. "... right?"

Balling his hands to fists, Sky bowed his head, and stood, the _squelch _of mud dragging underboot. _All my efforts ... not enough. Not for these people._

Several tossed sympathizing glances Sky's way. But the crack of a whip nearby sent them cringing back to work. Nothing more.

"Sky—"

"Don't, Bones." Sky bent and snatched his pickaxe up. _Wasn't enough._ "Just don't."

"Oi, get down you dogs or it's the Sinkhole for you both!" came an underling shout from somewhere behind.

All Bones could do was give his head a small sad shake before resuming his sledge-hammering. No further questions asked.

The pickaxe trembled in Sky's choking grasp. He worked himself in a fit, picturing rock after rock as Krisi's head before splitting the gap-toothed grin off that face. Again and again. Never mind the strange looks again tossed his way. Never mind his blood-spattered shirt already bursting at tight seams, prickling his spine raw from Krisi's flogging him days ago, here— there— until each heaving, constricting breath stung so damned hard.

In that instant, as Sky stayed doubled over, panting, rage slowly ebbing, a thought flashed across his mind. An epiphany so sudden so subtle he cursed himself for being too thickheaded not realizing any—

"_Aagh!" _A steam of pain burst across his back. He _mmph'd,_ teeth crunching tongue as he buckled on hands and knees.

"Told you both to get to it!"

Passing by, the underling responsible, some boy who looked no older than Teran's age, spat at a rising Sky then gave Bones a shoving kick in the behind. The dark-skinned man staggered with his sledgehammer, but didn't fall— wouldn't give the satisfaction of falling. Rather he bore through such act as silent and as stone-faced as usual.

"Filthy overzealous grasshoppers," muttered Bitter Martha nearby as she spat and glared after the underling. And Sky couldn't agree any better.

"Sir never listens, does he?" said a voice behind Sky. He peered over his shoulder. It was Two. The teen had halted his barrow, shaking his head in disapproval.

Sky spat blood, hissed and felt the wetness of his back sticking shirt. So much for aggravating his wounds.

One did a once-over. "Whoa, guv'nor, you look like hell."

Bones addressed the Zagreb twins with a bland look.

"You just missed it."

However soon as Sky, Two and One squatted low together, Bones easing his body whilst working so he could keep a lookout for anyone who strayed too close, it was a different matter.

Dumping his handful of large rocks into One's barrow first, and then into Two's, Sky motioned for the Zagreb twins to slow their pace a bit.

"One, any success?"

The twin with a pirate hat a size too big flashed the stolen reagent bottle tucked in his pocket. "We still go as planned, right, guv'nor?"

A nod. "As planned tonight. Anything to tell, Two?"

For a month or so, this has how it always been. The Zagreb twins— Sky's eyes and ears through the quarry here, the not-so-distant Dandung town to the north (even if Sky had never been there himself) and the lumbering zone of the nearby Nozama forest to the west as well.

"So far, no troublesworth noting in Dandung I suppose." Two dumped his armful. And with the rear of his palm he brushed stray brown locks of hair aside. "Though I did glimpse _Dog _sniffing 'round the farmland."

Brows rose at that.

"Aye all right," One scratched the fuzz of his chin. "If you mean sniffing a bit too close to _Emerald_—"

"What?" Sledgehammer _thunked_ the muddy earth. Bones' head jerked, voice harsh as a whisper of steam, "If that bastard thinks he dares lay a hand on my—" an _ahem_ from One, a pointed look from Sky, and Bones could only seeth rather, slowly, "_Emerald._"

"See?" said Two with a smile that didn't reach his eyes after the shock of that fleeting moment passed, much to One's amused snort. Sky glanced about, wary. "Lighten up. It's just a _board_ _game_, right?"

The blank look he got in return told him it wasn't even so.

Far be it from so, thought a grim part of Sky's mind. With eyes here, there and everywhere, it was too great a risk. The speak of this everyday as well as their escape plan every night, was a closely guarded secret amongst six people. Thus, speaking in misleading sentences and terse codenames for certain characters was an utmost necessity.

Sky and the twins ducked their heads instinctive when shadows went past. Barrowers carting empty back and heaped broken rocks forth.

So Two continued, hushed as before, "Not that close though. _Wild Card_'smere presence within that farmland scared him away. His brat pack too. For some reason, the hell I don't know."

"Strange one, isn't she?" added One as he put the last rock. Both barrows were heaped already full.

Sky exchanged a troubled look with Bones. Wild Card— or so they called the newest of the five blood-overseers ever since the last's death (rumored fruit poisoning, he heard): a mysterious knight whom nobody knew her past the ever-worn knight mask, oversaw the farmland, yet was just as brutal as her fellows. Sky himself did not like the look in her eyes whenever she caught notice of him.

But she, scaring Bift away? Now that was something to look into.

"Strange indeed," agreed Bones.

"The hell who's strange?" Heads jerked, breaths hitched and Sky feared they'd been caught. But no it was that bigmouthed drunkard Hill aching his neck. "Oh I see, flappin' yer gums 'bout me, eh? I knew it."

Immense relief flooded Sky. The same he could see for the Zagreb twins. However Bones shot Hill a look of cool warning.

"Oh don't go throwing that look." The former seadog gave a phlegm-filled cough, took a swig from his flask, wiped his mouth with a trembling hand and spat. "Some freeman, eh? Hah, might as well flog a dead horse— or isn't that right, eh, _eh_, Barry boy?" That said he did a mock-toast, laughing.

Sky thought he saw Bones flinch, but decided it was a trick of the light. The dark-skinned man picked his sledgehammer up and got back to work, as though nothing happened or was said at him.

"Bloody hell say flogging who, Hill?" Bitter Martha scowled with bloodshot eyes from her opposite end. "At least we're all better off than you piss-poor drinking son of a—"

"Wasn't taking to you, bitch. So shaddup!" How redder could the man get?

Snickers could be heard beneath a few breaths. Someone even groaned and gave a mutter of "great, here we go again".

"Finally." One grinned and squeezed himself as the shouting match continued along the quarry wall. "Work and a show."

No, those two would only get them all in trouble. Somewhere off, Sky could have sworn he saw an underling glance their way and nudged Two. "I think now's your cue for you boys to go."

"Three years …" Two was shaking his head in disgust and muttering to himself, "And still has that idiot no lick of maturity?"

For a sixteen-year-old, One looked like he was about to pout and whine being denied of the show, when Two, without looking, flicked him in the nose.

Sky glanced for approaching overseers and underlings. Seeing none he said, "You guys just keep a lookout for _Emerald_— and for yourselves too."

With utters of "aye, guv'nor" and "sir", the Zagreb twins quickly scrambled alongside some of the other barrowers, soon disappearing amidst the buzz of activity within Dandung quarry. Sky grabbed his pickaxe and got back working as the others.

Well almost all of them, he glanced in exasperation. If those two kept going at each other. One was apparently half-deaf, the other stupid. Figures.

"... freakin' tosspot—"

"You deaf, bitch, I say—"

"Quiet."

Hill nearly slipped, Bitter Martha shuddered. Everyone of their cell, even Sky, shivered at the iceberg of Bones' deep sudden tone. Not Hill, drunk as he got, or Bitter Martha, bad-tempered as ever, wanted on this side of the dark-skinned man. Not any of them.

Ever.

Although once the shock of that fleeting moment passed, Sky finally heaved himself a long-held sigh of relief. He glanced his friend a look.

"You gonna be okay?"

No reply.

"Bones?"

Said man paused, eyed Sky for a moment then carried on.

Just then a woman's shriek shred through air like cloth, jolting all heads to attention. Sky looked as well. And he could see why.

The center of the quarry was clearing of barrowers or drudgers. Leading was _the bitch_ Krisi, three of her lackeys in wake— both dragging a pregnant woman while the third held a whip. Krisi motioned in a quick nudge of the head. The dark-skinned woman was forced, screaming and wailing, into a hole— which everyone were familiar with— until her upper torso remained above ground.

From nearby, a man, presumably her husband, tried rushing in. "Debra!" he cried— only to slam into the barricade that was Krisi's boys.

A strange whoosh of silence fell over the quarry like the shadow of a cloud. The south-west sea breeze, the lone sound, began fluttering through clothes.

Sky knew what would soon follow. His heart hammered hard and fast with that fact. Almost unconsciously, he felt his foot move, felt himself taking a step, felt his teeth bare. But Bones' firm hand, an anchor of reality, slammed upon his shoulder. In lieu, Sky took to biting the inside of his cheek and clenching his fists, tight, tighter with a scowl edging his brow, as if willing for Krisi and her lackeys to burst into flames. Oh how he wished he were Bloom he could ...

Said woman bent now, cupped Debra's cheek and whispered something into her ear. Eyes wide with fear, Debra shook her head no. But Krisi nodded his head yes. Debra shook hers no, whimpering. And Krisi backhanded her in the cheek. Hard.

"No, no. Don't ...!" The husband tried muscling his way past. He couldn't. So he went on his knees before Krisi's lackeys, begging them one moment, followed with screaming pleads at Krisi herself, "You know it's me. Take me. Just please, please let her go. Let her be ...!"

Seeing Debra become quiet and less trembling, Krisi set her foot squashed upon the woman's head like an obedient footstool, straightened, breathed deep before addressing the silence of the entire quarry with a grim look.

And suddenly she burst out laughing, shaking her head:

"Oh this suspense's gonna kill me."

Chuckles echoed from her men at that.

Exchanging _Reeves_ for the whip, Krisi began, "Now, now, dear kiddies, no need to get all misery-eyed on old me. Just glad class is already in session. To that, why don't ya'll go ahead and give yourselves a hand together."

She started off clapping her hands.

Even as Sky knew anyone would rather spit in _the bitch's _face, a stiff clap soon came from one blank-faced person, then another and then another until it was almost the entire quarry in mock applause.

Sky himself did no such thing.

Each clap had Krisi nodding her head in some approval. Soon she waved her hand. All became quiet.

"Wasn't so hard now was it? But that's a lesson for another day. As of today's, it has come upon my vast knowledge that ye," she swept her whip handle towards the mass, "ought to know and learn. Old or young, pregnant or no, ain't nobody, and I mean, ain't nobody slacks off ..." her whip unfurled, _"on my watch!"_

Debra's shrieked. Her voice echoed throughout the tomb-like stillness of the quarry.

"Debra ...!" came the husband's struggling shouts but was sucked in the gut, his restrainers holding him on the spot.

Second lash came.

Third. A gasping gurgle.

Fourth. Blood spattered the ground, Debra's face and shoulders red.

"_Bitch. Monster. You monster!" _And in a show of astonishing strength, Debra's husband broke past his oppressors and rushed for Krisi, who wheeled for him. She sidestepped his bull-headed tackle and bared her palm open. The moment she did so, Debra's husband came crumpling to the floor, shouting, writhing and tossing like a worm in the mud, as if experiencing some agony of being burnt alive.

Oh, but Sky knew better. Why, everyone else did. Or who else could stand while their heartbeat raced hypertensive levels, blood seething through their veins like molten metal? That, thus was the magic of a blood overseer.

Sky could see Debra try parting her lips, try screaming for her husband, only to wince and cough bubbling red.

Yet Krisi kept her palm up. "Monster, you say? Say that again to my face."

Screams were the reply.

Shaking her head, Krisi laughed. "Of course you don't." As soon as the man's screams trailed into unconsciousness she fisted her palm close. "Dump him in the Sinkhole, boys."

Soon Debra's husband was dragged away.

"Now ..." Krisi turned for the whimpering wife and went on a knee and cupped Debra's bloody cheek. "Where were we?"

Response: bloody spit in the face.

Had it not been current circumstances Sky would have smiled grimly at the split-second shock on Krisi's face. Payback time.

"_You ..." _Wiping her scowling face with the edge of her sleeve, the chief blood-overseer stood and smashed her boot against Debra face. The woman's head snapped sideways with a cry. "I'll bleed you dry."

Sky finally turned away, too disgusted to watch. The sooner escaping this hell, all the better.

And so the flogging and blood torture continued.

* * *

><p>That night by his tent, by his own campfire, a clean-shaven Sky finally put down the mirror he'd borrowed from One, heaved a deep breath and before long found himself brooding, which was quite ironic to think since he'd always wondered what his son Teran got out of it.<p>

_Teran. Bloom._

His head bowed. The mere thought of them soured his spirits greatly. Truly, he'd always wondered what in hell he got himself into in the first place. Where? When? As well as many other questions nagging the back of his mind.

However all he could recollect though was in its and bits— through sleep and the brutal hardship day to day, but it still wasn't enough. Somehow.

Yet he remembered himself fighting. Stella and Flora battling along with him. They three fighting for their lives against Belladona, that cursed witch of ice.

He didn't know about Brandon and others then, but never, never had he felt such overwhelming rage fuelling him that moment, knowing that those cursed ancestrals were linked to Bloom's disappearance.

Sky fisted his hands. Yet that rage had also been his downfall. Imagine his shock when the ice ancestress suddenly unleashed a portal with the churning force of a black hole.

And so, here he was.

The sound of a harmonica broke through the spruced-tree clearing, through the camp and through Sky's dark thoughts. A jaunty, head-bopping and feet-tapping beat. Even as his tent, though lone and at the very edge of the camp, he knew for sure it was Hill playing an old favourite '_Wanderlust'_ for the children. Their claps and laughter could be heard. Drunkard that man maybe, One had admitted one time, but son of a gun he sure had his talent. Even Bones nodded so. Who was Sky not to say any better.

Just like every other dark and bitter night, it brought a slice of light brighter and warmer than the glow of fires throughout the camp— eyes and minds little of worries. Worries of the bone-weary day. Worries of whatever past, present or tomorrow held ... if only just for a moment.

Oh how Sky wished he could find it in himself to envy, but couldn't. Rather his very mind haunted him all the more.

Picking up the mirror again, Sky stared into it for a moment and scratched his itchy blonde hair. Staring back, was his youth during that final year at Red Fountain, save the wild hair. Fate, as always, seemed to enjoy jumping from one tune to another. Only this time he had yet to listen, let alone dance the steps. Since awakening into this hell of a world, awakening to being captured, so this de-aged appearance was and so it is. How? He doubt not even Timmy could explain so.

But if there was ever one thing Sky was sure thus far. There was no way he'd ever give up. And he wouldn't. Not in this world, or any.

"You miss them, don't you?"

Twitching, Sky shifted the mirror so he could see who was behind him. A girl of late teens in faded dungarees. Skin as fair as his. Dark green hair. Branded cheek. Surely it was Sa, Bones' daughter.

Sky's shoulders sagged in relief. "Oh, and how do you know so?"

"My father." Pause. Sky scooted so she could sit. "He has this thousand-yard gaze anytime he thinks of her ... mother."

"Oh."

That instant the sound of Hill's harmonica started a tune of '_Sad Hound', _trailing along a woman's homesick brogue of _"High and brave, howling o'er that blue moon ..."_

"He snapped, didn't he?"

Sky paused prodding the log fire. "So One already told you." Then blinked with arched brows, "And you're calm about it?"

A noncommittal grunt. "Can't say I'm surprised, can I?"

Sky stared at her, and just stared some more. Who was this and what had they done to the real—

"Okay, I admit I'm not at all calm about it."

Never mind.

"It's just father. He ..." she trailed as if considering her words, but looked away with a sigh, "Nothing."

"You don't have to force yourself."

"But I have to." Sa shook her head doggedly anyways and fisted her pouch. "Not while tomorrow is mother's memorial."

Silence.

Sky recalled glimpsing Bones flinch earlier today. _His late wife?_ _Was this why? _Maybe so. Nonetheless, that was for pondering later. _"_Do you feel like you want to talk about it?" he asked after a fleeting beat.

At that, Sa kneaded her forehead then barked a laugh, a cold bite of a sound that chilled shivers down Sky's spine.

"I'm fine, Sky."

"You don't sound so."

"Oh, and how do you know so?"

In a response reminiscent of Riven, Sky merely cocked a brow in a cool _Because I do _kind of look.

"Nah, you're just telling me that." Sa waved that away, but Sky could see a smile twitching at her lips. "But really Sky, I'm okay. I can deal with it."

"I'm always here if you need an ear, okay?" He squeezed her shoulder.

Slyness, such was the look of Sa Bones. "Really? Does this include me ranting every night?"

"Sure. I've taken a lot worse."

They shared a small laugh and soon lost themselves gazing into the flames. Gone was the ending note of '_Sad Hound'_, and so begun another, '_Night Hill'. _Nothing too jaunty. Nothing too sad.

It was just ... Nostalgic.

"And there's that look again in your eyes, Sky." But Sa was staring into the star-studded skies above, half-moon more smear than light. "If you want I can listen."

Sky's lips tightened. "I'd rather not say."

Pause. Hazel eyes flicked his hair a glance. "Oh? So say to me: when was the last time you had _that _cut, hmm?"

That threw Sky off the kilter.

Before he could recover, Sa already had her hand dipped into her pouch and slid out a pair of scissors, glinting sharpness in the firelight. "Now here's a deal: you ..." she pointed, "are going to eat those words and I'll ..." and she gave the instrument in hand a _snip, snip, _"... see what I can do. Tit for tat."

Though hesitant, Sky humoured her. "Or?"

"I'll whine. Father's probably nearby, so who knows." She shrugged, nonchalant.

_What was she, nine? _Aloud, Sky conceded. "Fine, you win this time— just don't go telling One and Two. Knowing those two, they'd never let me live it down."

Nodding, Sa moved behind him and started snipping away.

"Now, if you could. Could you tell me more about this Bloom person?"

A hollow sinking sensation swelled within Sky's chest.

"Sky?"

Finally he found his voice. "I thought you were going to—"

"You cry?"

"What?"

At that moment Sky could almost picture Sa wetting her lips, a habit whenever she wanted to reveal her mind. "Some nights I hear you cry in your sleep. Cry names. Mostly about her. About this Bloom."

Sky set his jaw.

"Was she your special someone?"

More tufts of clipped hairs merely fell onto the ground.

Sa sighed and carried on.

Sky touched his brown-clothed chest; his heart, where the blood seal was branded once upon a time. Not the alchemist Pa Alba, not the Zagrebs, not Bones, not even Sa knew. If he told any of them who he was, where he actually came from and that whole ball of wax, they'd think he was crazy. He'd think himself crazy telling them.

So it had been fortunate— and quite coincidental— there was a shipwreck not too far at the time of his capture. Just one of those unlucky Saint Augarta privateers crossing the lines against pirates— or so the bitch Krisi had deduced from his outfit when she and her gang found him _unfortunately_ washed ashore those months ago. That had been his cover story ever since.

And he'd like to keep that way.

"Yes," Sky finally found himself replying. "Bloom was, is and always will be."

A beat passed. Sa nudged Sky's head lower so she could cut at a better angle. Soon there was the dreaded question, "What happened to her?"

Sky shut his eyes. He took a deep breath and heaved a heavy sigh in a _whoosh_.

"There was this festival at Saint Augarta." _Erakylon_, he had half-mind saying but swallowed that back. Sa didn't need to know that. "I got Bloom to go with me, even if she really didn't like the fanfare nor the crowds so much." He smiled fondly at just the mere mental images of both her wincing face and Teran's dark scowl. Too much like mother and son. "But we did spend good time together during the day. Picnics and all. At night, there was a ball at His Majesty's palace. We donned in our best, danced and laughed. She'd be right back, she had said then, probably feeling self-conscious. I knew, I could tell, and so I waited. What an idiot I was."

"Sky, calm down and _breathe. _That's it. Breathe."

"She ..." his voice caught, "disappeared. Not a word. Not a trace."

Again, silence, as it all sank in.

Now Sa had him tilting his head left. Her voice low, "She was ... Is she the reason you went privateering? Like a way to search for her?"

"You could say that," his mind flashed back when there was that abyss— that black hole of a portal. The cold emptiness of that pulling sensation haunted him. "If only I knew I was thinking right."

"Yet to go that far ... " was all Sa could say. "Wow."

"She is worth it. Worth the reason I have the strength to endure this far. And worth the reason," his words no more than a whisper of a breath, "that reason, of believing she is still out there, somewhere."

A breeze rustled through the spruce trees, through the surrounding Nozama forest, as though carrying his words like balloons, elsewhere, somewhere. Hill had stopped playing some time ago. Soon Two took over with his violin music. Though unknown, it carried a slow but steady tempo.

"And what this about this Teran? A best friend, a brother, or someone else?" Sa asked after a beat.

Sky screwed an amused brow. "Now that would be stretching our deal, remember?"

"Right, right. And there we _aaare ..._ done." Sa did a last snip before handing Sky the mirror. "Now doesn't that look much more ha— er— better?"

Indeed it was. A nod of thanks, and a small smile. "Like a dream."

For some odd reason, Sa looked away, perhaps too humbled from his thanks. Well she deserved it.

Just then a presence loomed behind them. Oh, it was Bones. The man nodded his acknowledgement, Sky gave his in return.

"Sa dear, a word."

Heaving a sigh, the bowlegged girl exchanged a last knowing look with Sky before following after her father.

In the background the sound of Two's violin raced a breathless tempo.

Sky caught himself yawning. He tried shaking his head off the heady drowsiness. Goodness, he hoped Two would play _Meadow Night_ soon. The song always did lull him to sleep, dreamless and free of the nightmares haunting the shadows of his mind.

"What game is this? Leading the poor wench on, are we?"

Sky twitched alert, fingers sinking into the wood. _That voice. _He squinted ahead, just beyond the circle of his firelight— and there— there she was, a shadow leaning against one of the trees. She pushed off and drew nearer into the light.

Indeed it is _her_.

Wild Card.

Without her knight mask and armour? Surely, his eyes deceived him of the strange sight, let alone seeing her unmasked. No human could be that pale.

In a hunter's garb riddled here-there of faded stains and perforated holes, the knight soon sat on the log opposite his, her arms crossed. "Word does spread far it seems. I had no clue a fellowman of Saint Augarta was here amongst," she tossed a fleeting once-over, "let alone a privateer."

Sky flicked his gaze for the flames. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're implying at ... miss."

"Don't strain thyself. Sky, is it?" He tensed. "So it is. Anyone here can be fooled— oh, I just remembered—they are. But I digress. Evidently, an experienced eye can tell a very few that stand out from the rest."

Although Sky kept a blank face, he felt sweat, hot and clammy, prickle the back of his neck. Were he and the others compromised? His mind raced reading between the lines, so he thought fast:

"Are you challenging me?"

"Smart. But will it ever be enough that way?"

Sky firmed his lips shut, fearing a mere thought further could give him away.

As Wild Card _tsked_— the apple in her hand looking so lush and red it mirrored Sky's frowning face— she took out her signature dagger, its edge glinting pure white in the firelight, and began carving onto the fruit.

"Look miss," Sky tried padding calmness over his words, "I don't know what your being here is all about. But if this is some way of goading a fight, then you're wasting your time here."

One moment the knight paused her fruit carving to regard him blank-eyed.

On the next she reared her head back and ...

Laughter.

Sky fought a shudder. If Sa's sad bitter laugh sparked spine chills, the soft sound of the knight's would make him squirm. And surely, that look in her eyes told oh, how much she knew just that.

"Is something funny?" he asked.

_Snit! _Dagger jutted through apple— Sky gulped— its tip through his reflection left eye. The knight overseer slid her blade out— _slowly, _and stabbed it into the log. _Hard._ She held the apple before her face, overlooking whatever she'd just carved with the pleased eye of an artist."Have you ever any idea how difficult it be finding one of this back at the ports of Saint Augarta?" And then she blinked out of it and offered the apple, "You want?"

Sky let his shoulders droop, teeth gritted in frustration. "What is it you want from me?"

"No?" A _suit-yourself _sort of shrug, and the knight chomped a bite. She shut her eyes with a pleased _mmm _at the taste. But Sky saw past that, his eyes instantly zeroing in on what was carved upon the apple's surface.

A face.

No, a jack-o-lantern.

A face of a jack-o-lantern grinning back.

Warning bells blared through his head.

_She knows._

Although his expression gave nothing away, panic kettledrummed his heart. She knows. _How had she found out?_ _How much did she know?_ _Wait a second. Better question: what was she on about?_ The mere resulting thought sent his face feeling pale. Had she somehow discovered about Pa Alba's serum? Or was this about his cover story?

Dragons, he hoped neither.

In a deep breath Sky managed steadying his wobbled mind. "This game ... whatever you're playing at ... miss, I'm not doing it. So leave."

"Alas, I have but three questions." Tossing her half-eaten apple into the fire, thereby startling what remained of Sky's nerves, Wild Card rose. "How is Sa doing?"

"Well far away. And the second?" Sky crossed his arms, bracing himself when she reached for something behind her waist, a look in her dark eyes.

"Is this familiar?"

Eyes wide, Sky wasn't aware when he lunged to his feet._ Was that ... was that...?_ Indeed, it was— his phantoblade he thought long lost since his influx into this world— now clutched inactivated in her hand.

"So it is."

At that second _Blue Meadow _began playing. Sky bit the inside of his teeth so as not to curse aloud, to lash out. _Idiot. You fell for the bait._

The knight overseer twirled the now activated saber in few expert swings and circles. "Imagine my surprise stumbling upon _this_ washed and weathered on the sands of Gӧz Bay— that's where the shipwreck happened, wasn't it? In all my times, in and out of Saint Augarta, never have I seen such a ... peculiar weapon. Isn't that so, Sky?"

Sky stayed silent, breathing hard.

"And here you ask what be it I want from you. Do you want to know, or ... do you really think I wouldn't know?"

"You know nothing."

Wild Card _tsked,_ deactivating his phantoblade in a flick. "In three days time will have you thinking otherwise. Thus comes my third question. How interested are you for a wager?"

Sky swept a cautious glance over his shoulder. The camp chatter had lowered to a few awake fires. Other than that, no one was looking their way.

"And why should I be?"

"If ye _manage_ winning: You have what is yours," she flipped the saber in hand, "walk away from all _this_," she motioned round them, "and everyone else a free man. This, I swear."

Sharp intake of breath, Sky stayed rooted to the spot. Could it be true? Or were his ears hearing what they wanted him to hear? Some distant part of his mind inputted there maybe that possibility of her bluffing. Although he wouldn't call her on that.

"However," Wild Card started circling him like a hawk tracking prey, "if ye do not: your overseer Bift will see fit to relinquish your blood link to me. And you will submit ... only to me. That, I swear."

"What if I don't?"

"Krisi."

A niggling sensation rippled Sky's whip-slashed back. "And what sick gain do you get out of this?"

"Sick amusement of course. So ..." And with that razor-sharp smile, the knight put her hand for a handshake.

"... Do we have a deal?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong>

**Disclaimer: ****Temple Run**** and all related concepts, characters and events are property of Imangi Studios. Do I look like I own **_**Barry Bones**_**?**

_**Ain't No Grave (Can Hold My Body Down)**__ belongs to __**Johnny Cash— **__inspired soundtrack from the movie __**Django.**__However, the songs __**Wanderlust, Sad Hound, Night Hill **__and__** Blue Meadow **__are all crafted pieces of this poor writer's imagination._

_Please, do share your thoughts._

**Nentone, the Keyboard Assassin**


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